


Catching Bullets in Our Teeth

by jusrecht



Category: Super Junior
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 20:58:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jusrecht/pseuds/jusrecht
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Siwon and Kyuhyun are government-hired assassins. One day, their paths cross.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catching Bullets in Our Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> There are two interweaving storylines here and they will come in bits, so it may be kinda confusing. Present tense is for the present. Past tense is for the past.

  
The first thing about people like them is they don’t fall in love.  
  
They simply don’t.  
  
  
.  
  
  
It is a resort by the sea. Their rented cottage is small, unpretentious, but comfortable.  
  
Siwon is the first to arrive. He notices everything, catalogues every detail in the three-roomed structure, observes every possible point of egress and exit. It is now a matter of habit instead of necessity. Vigilance and paranoia are the two indispensable elements to ensure that he, _they_ , last as long as possible.  
  
But then Kyuhyun steps into the room—and those details, along with everything else, take one step back and fade into the inconsequential background.  
  
  
.  
  
  
The first time Siwon laid his eyes on him was through a curtain of rain.  
  
His target had already been dead for three seconds, a hapless victim to his bullet. _He_ himself would have already been dead for two-and-a-half, if not for another shot, fired from another gun. Siwon turned around, only fast enough to catch a hazy glimpse of a dark grey hoodie and a pale face, disappearing behind the corner of a building.  
  
There was no time for numbness or amazement. He approached his victim, searched through the body, found a memory card hidden in the second lining of his coat's inner pocket, and quickly left the place after making sure that no trace of his ever being there remained.  
  
Only twenty minutes later, safe among the throng of early commuters in a crowded train, that Siwon allowed the full weight of realisation to sink in.  
  
There was only one reason why he was still alive, and it was another man.  
  
  
.  
  
  
Their first round is always the most brutal.  
  
The best thing about fucking Kyuhyun is Siwon doesn’t have to worry about him. He can handle practically everything thrown his way, let alone half-an-hour’s wrestling between the sheets. Kyuhyun and Kyuhyun alone can show him what _fucking like animals_ actually means.  
  
Then again, it’s just another factor that makes them the perfect storm.  
  
Kyuhyun moans and screams into the pillow, but never once Siwon’s name passes his lips. Walls may be earless and eyeless, but in their line of work, there is no such thing as being too careful.  
  
Even then, at the peak of euphoria, they never forget what they are.  
  
  
.  
  
  
“What happened to the lone wolf code?”  
  
The reason why Im Yoona was nicknamed the ‘Ice Queen’ by the entire hierarchy of the agency was obvious. Nothing ever caught her off guard—not bullets, not traps, and definitely not questions. “Improvisation,” she answered after only a short pause. “They knew that we would send someone after the target, so they sent someone after you.”  
  
“And so you sent someone after someone who was after me.”  
  
She shrugged. “You are an asset. Protecting you is logical. And in any case, you had no contact with this someone and this someone had no contact with you.”  
  
“No violation of the code,” Siwon muttered wryly.  
  
“The code exists for a reason,” she told him, leaning against the bookshelf to her left. A public library was not the most suitable spot for a meeting like theirs—which was exactly why she chose it. “Considering the ultra-sensitive nature of your job, it’s best that you work alone. Do me a favour and keep it in mind instead of doing something incredibly stupid.”  
  
Siwon raised his eyebrows. “I’m not doing anything.”  
  
“Yet.” Her eyes never left him. “But I know you.”  
  
“Maybe you do,” he said with a shrug, “or maybe you don’t.”  
  
“Considering that I’m your handler and therefore your only link to the real world, let’s hope that I do.”  
  
Siwon’s only response to that was a slow smile. “Speaking of handlers,” he said instead, switching the subject, “if you had the authority to send this someone after someone who was after me, then you must be his handler too.”  
  
Yoona’s expression did not change. “He or _she_ is none of your business. Drop it.”  
  
He shot her another half-smirk. “Never thought for a second that you’d fall for that.”  
  
“Good.” She gave him one last, pointed look under her long lashes, and then reached into her coat for a sealed plastic bag. “Your new phone and ID. Your next mission is in the phone, as well as your new address. You can decode the message using the fourth cipher.”  
  
Siwon took the bag with a frown. “I thought I was getting a leave after the last one.”  
  
This time, it was her who smirked at him. “Maybe next year, Choi. For now, your country still comes first.”  
  
  
.  
  
  
Both of them will be bruised and sore by the time they are done.  
  
Lips still locked with Kyuhyun’s, Siwon takes his time to savour the last tingles of a waning orgasm. He loves kissing Kyuhyun, tasting the slick softness of his lips and drawing out all the delicious little sounds his throat cannot help but make when Siwon caresses his mouth just right.  
  
Kyuhyun used to hate it. Now he only sighs and moans, his tongue lazily twining with Siwon’s until they’re both running out of air. And when they part, there will be a smile on his face, the kind that makes Siwon bite the inside of his cheek lest he say the words which might ruin them.  
  
“I think I’m gonna take a nap,” Kyuhyun tells him, still smiling that soft, contented smile.  
  
“Go ahead,” Siwon hears himself say as he shifts to the other side of the bed. “I'll be awake.”  
  
Kyuhyun hums, eyes drifting shut. Siwon lies on his back and spends the rest of the afternoon trying not to caress Kyuhyun’s sleeping face.  
  
  
.  
  
  
His new target was a former government official whose knowledge had encroached upon the sensitive area; therefore, his existence had become a veritable source of threat, especially now that he had been known to mingle with the wrong kind of people.  
  
Siwon had tracked him down to an area in downtown Beijing, where the target now resided, cocooned in a false sense of security. Executing his order was only a matter of patience. He spent two weeks of reconnaissance, committing enough of the man's routine and habits to his memory to concoct a plan, and then made his move.  
  
His window of opportunity appeared on a Saturday night, in a club often visited by the target. Siwon followed him to the second floor, into a dark, long hall with a row of doors on both sides. The man disappeared behind one of them—and Siwon made his first mistake in two weeks.  
  
He should have waited. He should have made sure that his target was alone behind that door.  
  
He did not. The door yielded easily when he pushed it open, almost noiseless amidst the loud, pounding beat coming from downstairs. He found the man he was supposed to kill in a tangle of limbs with another man, both too busy devouring each other’s lips to notice his presence.  
  
There was a petrified moment as Siwon confronted the result of his first lapse of judgment.  
  
And then he committed his second. He stepped into the room, shut the door behind him, and proceeded to deliver his purpose here. With his gun at the ready, he yanked the two men apart and then put three bullets in his target’s brain.  
  
Mission accomplished. But then he did his third mistake. He glanced at the other man, at the innocent witness he should have not involved in this bloody execution—and found, instead of crippling fear, a blaze of annoyance.  
  
“ _You_.” Followed by a hiss. “Really? Of all people in this fucking metropolis, _he_ ’s your target?  
  
For the first time in a very long time, Siwon found himself speechless. He was still grasping emptily at words when the rhetorical question was followed by an irritated huff. “Now my plan is ruined.”  
  
“My apologies,” he heard himself say automatically. In missions, surprise had no place, and so he approached the limp body, still positioned between the other man’s spread legs in the long couch, and pretended to check for a pulse. Obviously enough, there was none.  
  
“Well then,” Siwon straightened up, eyes only straying once over the generous spread of pale skin under a long, beautiful neck, “I shall take my leave.”  
  
“Oh no, you won’t.” His left wrist had been caught in an iron grip before he could take one step closer to the door. Siwon’s fingers flexed, fighting against an impulse to pull a few punches, or maybe even a trigger. By now, he had made the connection between this man and the one who had been haunting his memory since that rainy morning, and his first instinct was to get away from him as soon as possible. “Your victim happened to be my ticket to _my_ target. Now that he is dead, you will replace him.”  
  
Siwon raised an eyebrow. “I will?”  
  
“Yes.” The other man stood up, kicking Siwon’s dead victim aside and wiping the spatters of blood on his face with the end of his conveniently black shirt. “Then we’ll call it even.”  
  
Siwon tensed, but before he could clarify what ‘it’ meant, he already found himself being pulled back downstairs, right to the heart of the dance floor. “Just kiss and grope me,” the words were whispered in his ears as a pair of arms came round his neck. “That should be easy enough for someone with your training, right?”  
  
It would certainly be easy enough even for someone _without_ his training, Siwon reflected as his lips started being molested by a pair of skilful ones. The hands groping down his back to the curve of his ass were all business, intent on forcing a response out of him—and they succeeded. Siwon growled, pressing their bodies flush against each other, and bucked his hips until a loud moan echoed in his mouth.  
  
But he didn’t stop then. Neither were the hands on his lower back telling him to stop. Siwon grinned, heart pounding in tandem with the mindless beat around him. This was dangerous; his control was slipping and the dead body of his target upstairs could be discovered any time now—but he simply couldn’t leave. He had been living at the edge of danger for so long, living and breathing with suspicion and vigilance lining every shift of his muscle. This was different. This was abandon, laughing at the face of that deadly ice-cold threat, and it felt _divine_.  
  
Enjoying the moment, however, was clearly not the other man’s intention. Not long after, he started pushing Siwon back, both jostling against the mass of writhing bodies until they found the nearest hard surface: a pole. Siwon gasped when his back made rough contact with the cold metal. It dug into his spine as his mouth continued being fucked by a relentless tongue, driving every breath out of his lungs.  
  
His head was spinning by the time he was finally released. The attention they had garnered from other patrons of the club was obvious—but once again Siwon didn’t care. He only had eyes for the man standing before him and the devilish smirk spread over those wet, inviting lips.  
  
“Very nicely done.”  
  
“My training was very thorough,” Siwon replied, inviting a laugh from that dark, rich voice.  
  
“I can see,” the other man purred, and then left after one last kiss, heading toward the other end of the club. Even in the dimness, Siwon had no trouble picking up two men who had immediately left their seats and followed his new acquaintance. And he was not the only one who noticed. One of the men earned a flirtatious smirk from the pair of lips which had just kissed Siwon senseless fifteen seconds ago.  
  
Siwon smiled wryly. Now he knew what that had been all about.  
  
“He always does that.” A voice came from his left, almost startling him. Siwon turned, finding a heavily made-up face which looked androgynously pretty in the club’s dim lighting. The voice which addressed him, however, was undoubtedly male.  
  
“Practically fucking everything that moves,” the young man spoke again, his slightly glazed eyes fixed on Siwon. “And jumping from one man to the next in less than ten minutes. Don’t know what his game is, but I can assure you,” he paused, one of his hands lightly brushing Siwon’s thigh, “you’ll want someone more exclusive.”  
  
It took Siwon a few seconds to convince himself that he wanted as little to do with everyone in this club as possible, considering the dead body upstairs. “No, thanks,” he said, pretending that his pants didn’t still feel a bit too tight. “I’m not really interested in anyone else.”  
  
“That’s what they always say,” his current companion sighed. “Is he really that good?”  
  
“He’s interesting,” Siwon shrugged, glancing at the darkened corner where the other man was enjoying his new conquest. It was time for him to leave. “But I better go back to my wife now.”  
  
The young man grinned and sent him off with a scout’s salute. Siwon returned to his rented apartment, took his bag, and spent the rest of the night in a hotel room at the other side of the city.  
  
In the next day's newspaper, he read about the death of two men in the same night club. One was a former government official, shot thrice to the head. The other was the son of a mob boss whose penchant for pretty young men were thoroughly well-known in the area—and now dead from an injection of sodium cyanide.  
  
  
.  
  
  
Killing is a matter of precision. The precise data. The precise plan. The precise aim and angle. The precise control—of habit, discipline, and most important of all, emotions.  
  
Siwon doesn’t remember ever feeling much about taking lives, even in the earlier stages of his career. Killing is killing, but he does it on government’s payroll. A civil service. For home and country. His guilt runs more heavily to other things, like a promise he often fails to keep to his one and only sister. But sometimes it’s there, clawing at him when he least expects it.  
  
When he has been alone for too long in a job. When the soldier in him falters.  
  
Then it will rear its head. An ugly snake, its venom ready to send him spiralling down a bottomless abyss. Guilt is never flashy. It works in silence, slowly, the child of stealth with the deadliness of poison.  
  
Which is a good thing that he met Kyuhyun.  
  
  
.  
  
  
Siwon returned to the club on the following day, under the guise of a journalist.  
  
It was yet another mistake in the long list of mistakes he had done since yesterday—except that this one was planned, and the plan was truly and willingly executed in the full consciousness that he was breaking a rule. It was an unspoken decree acknowledged by all operatives that once they had got a job done, they must leave the place as soon as possible. It was also the wisest thing to do, especially if they wanted to stay alive for a long, _long_ time.  
  
That day, for the first time throughout his lengthy and eventful career, Siwon disobeyed this rule. And he was honest enough to admit to himself that his reason for disobedience was nowhere near professional.  
  
Fortunately, no one recognised him from last night. In fact, his press ‘credentials’ and the ever credible pair of notepad and pencil managed to earn him some information relevant to his interest.  
  
The man he was looking for was familiarly known in the area as ‘Guixian’. There was an address which led Siwon to an empty rented room—not unlike his abandoned one. Other details, such as physical descriptions and alcohol tolerance, seemed to vary confusingly from one person to another. Details of the other man’s sexual proclivities were especially abundant, but again, they were of such wide variety that it was difficult to pin down what this Guixian was actually like in bed.  
  
It was in the small details, the seemingly unimportant specifics and irrelevant trivia, that Siwon put his hopes in. Like the fact that the man he was looking for had been twice seen eating in the same noodle stall. Or that he preferred dark clothing, which made such a nice contrast to his pale skin. Or that his favourite drink from the bar was red wine.  
  
Trying to follow these trails, however, was like chasing breadcrumbs. The streets of Beijing yielded little of its secrets, even to an experienced eye. Siwon, however, was not one of the agency’s best for nothing. Making do with little was what he did best.  
  
Ten days later, his patience and toil finally bore fruit. He was strolling down a street in the Chaoyang district, exploring yet another possible theory, when he saw his target making a turn into the entrance of a bar.  
  
One, as it happened, famous for its wine selection.  
  
Siwon felt the triumphant rush which always arose after completing a particularly tricky job. Taking a deep breath, he followed the other man inside.  
  
The evening was young still, the regular working hours just barely ended. Only half of the seats were occupied. The murmur of conversation was low, scattered in the dim-lit space, and yet Siwon noticed his target almost immediately. He was sitting at a corner table—and he was looking straight at him.  
  
A wry smile made its way to Siwon’s lips. _Of course_. He slowly approached the table and slipped into one of two other empty seats.  
  
“Hello again.”  
  
The other man’s lips quirked up slightly, a faint acknowledgment. “You sure are persistent,” he said—and for the first time, without the presence of any loud, unwelcome sound around them, Siwon could truly appreciate how velvety smooth the voice was.  
  
“So I’ve been told many, many times,” he replied, his tone modest. “But I must admit I’m glad to see that my interest has not been entirely one-sided.”  
  
A hint of amusement appeared in Guixian’s expression. “Is that what you think?”  
  
“I think you’re a first-class operative,” Siwon said steadily, holding their gazes. “I think you’re too good at your job and the only reason why we are sitting here right now is because you allow it to happen. So yes, I think you are as curious about me as I am about you.”  
  
“Well, that sounds logical enough,” Guixian admitted, a smile tempting his lips.  
  
“And I cannot help but wonder why.”  
  
“Why do I have a feeling that you’re about to tell me why.”  
  
“Not tell.” Siwon grinned. “Show.”  
  
The momentum was there, so it was easy enough for Siwon to follow through, leaning in and kissing the other man square on the lips. It was light, chaste, nothing like the countless wild kisses they had shared in their previous encounter.  
  
Two seconds later, he realised that the mouth of a gun was pressed against his stomach, hidden from view beneath layers of their coats.  
  
“The next time you try something like that,” Guixian told him, voice cool, lips still scant inches away from his, “this won’t stay silent.”  
  
Siwon withdrew, hands raised in front of his chest in a gesture of surrender—but the grin remained, unrepentant, on his face. “Alright, no kiss without permission then next time.”  
  
The other man’s eyes narrowed. “And you assume that there will be a next time because?”  
  
“Oh, I don’t dare to assume,” Siwon confessed, rising to his feet, “but if I have to make a bet, then I’ll bet that you like a good challenge.” He paused, looking at the only other person in the world who knew how it felt to be him. “I will be in New York until December 22nd for another job. Let’s see if you can find me there.”  
  
Then he turned around and left.  
  
  
.  
  
  
Two hours and one finished novel later, Kyuhyun is still asleep.  
  
Siwon puts the book away and looks to the other side of the bed, wondering—reading, instead of lines of black ink, infinite possibilities on the sleeping face. There is something here, between them. He knows what it is on his end; he is no longer afraid to put a name on it. But Kyuhyun… well, he doesn’t know about Kyuhyun. In fact, he practically doesn’t know _anything_ about Kyuhyun.  
  
The physical relationship is the easy part. It’s how they began, the reason why they have put up with all the intricate planning and careful deceptions—all because everyone, even spies and hired killers, needed human contact. They are used to each other’s touches now. Siwon smiles when a slow, feather-light caress on a bare arm doesn’t wake Kyuhyun. It may not be wise, given their profession, but his heart warms at the sight all the same.  
  
Then he goes for something bolder. He watches as his fingers descend on the other man’s bare chest, slowly mapping the contour of his body. Then his mouth follows, trailing kisses and licks around perked nipples before going down and down until Kyuhyun drifts to consciousness with a luxurious sigh.  
  
“You really love my body, don’t you?” the voice is roughened by sleep but definitely pleased.  
  
As an answer, Siwon takes Kyuhyun’s cock into his mouth and presses two fingers into the willing entrance.  
  
  
.  
  
  
December 22nd came. And went. And the other man did not appear.  
  
With his mission done and the procured files now safely in Yoona’s hand, Siwon had the rest of the year off, as promised. He nevertheless lingered in the wintered city, amusing himself with the many choices of diversions and small pleasures offered by the season. Christmas in New York was a sight to behold, and Siwon was glad to discover that he was not yet jaded enough by the job to be unable to appreciate beauty at its most colourful.  
  
He spent his last day before returning to Seoul walking around the city among last-minute Christmas shoppers and tourists gawking at the elaborately decorated window stores. It was true that he had not quite forgotten about the man who had obviously snubbed his challenge, perhaps even finding it childish, but at the moment, his disappointment stemmed from a different source, not his wounded pride. It was something deeper, something like the wind-whisper of emptiness when he saw lovers walking hand-in-hand, or a pair of father-and-son standing in front of a shop window and admiring the clever display of toys behind the glass.  
  
Maybe it was because of the season, but the potholes of loneliness had never been so many as they were now, surrounding his feet like gaping jaws into an abyss. Above all, he wished that his sister could be here, sharing all this Christmas splendour with him—but instead, he was alone, wearing his cloak of anonymity even in the midst of celebrating families and friends.  
  
Siwon inhaled a sharp deep breath and shook the quickly spiralling thought off. Lingering around was definitely a mistake; he knew that he would be more vulnerable during the festive season. Silently berating himself, he forced his feet to walk faster toward the enormous Christmas tree at the Rockefeller Centre. The sight was impressive enough to keep his mind away from dangerous thoughts, namely getting drunk in a foreign city and babbling his secrets to well-meaning strangers whom he would have to ‘remove’ come morning.  
  
The tree was impressive, standing almost 30 metres high and profusely embellished with blinking lights. He was watching the parade of colours and weighing the option of buying his sister her Christmas presents here—which carried the risk of revealing that he had been in New York and therefore opening a whole avenue of questions from nosy, inquisitive people about this brother of her who had never been around—when he realised that he actually _recognised_ the person standing next to him.  
  
One violent heartbeat later, the recognition turned into realisation. Siwon blinked, then stared. The rush of exhilaration inside his chest was almost painful, but luckily for him, his training had provided him with a ridiculous amount of self-control, enough to keep his expression at a mildly amused level at the moment.  
  
“Two days late,” Siwon heard himself say, voice calm and steady. “And I thought you were one of the best, like me.”  
  
A smile curved the other man’s lips. “I don’t like doing things on other people’s terms,” he murmured, eyes still fixed on the brightest star at the top of the tree.  
  
Siwon almost laughed, but settled for a smirk. “Liar. You’ve been watching me these last few days to make sure that I’m not a trap.”  
  
It was that which finally made Guixian look at him. “Well, are you?” he asked matter-of-factly, eyebrows raised.  
  
Siwon did not answer. He turned to face the other man properly and said instead, “Here’s my idea. I shall take you to dinner while you continue mulling over that question, which might take you a long time to come up with an answer. Indeed the best dinner in town with the very best wine. After which we’ll take a pleasant stroll to enjoy the night air and maybe find ourselves a convenient wreath of mistletoe under which, with your permission this time, I shall give you a kiss. And since this is Christmas Eve and we haven’t got a present for each other, we can get creative and just simply _be_ each other’s present—which means that we’ll rent the most expensive room in the most expensive hotel in this expensive city, and I get to unwrap you and you get to unwrap me and we get to have a really great sex in a really expensive bed, and afterwards you can tell me if I’m a trap or not.”  
  
The look Guixian gave him was far from impressed. “That sounds perfectly idiotic,” he said dryly.  
  
“But not unappealing?”  
  
“But,” the corners of those lips, Siwon couldn’t help but notice, twitched, “it’s also too idiotic to be declined. Besides, I have nothing else to do until tomorrow.”  
  
“Perfect,” he grinned, taking the hand nearest to his and bestowing a kiss on its gloved back. “Shall we then, my Christmas angel?”  
  
It earned him a scoff followed by rolled eyes, which Siwon did not mind in the slightest because he was busy trying not to look too obviously pleased as he led the way. After all, one of them might end up with his throat slit in the morning if something went wrong—but hell, he was on holiday.  
  
  
.  
  
  
“I’m hungry.”  
  
Siwon glances at the pouting man on his lap, and then at the empty fruit plate next to him.  
  
“ _Really_? I ate three of those grapes at most.”  
  
“For real food, you dunce.” The retort is followed by a pinch to his stomach, tickling a laugh out of him.  
  
“Well, we did skip lunch,” he concedes.  
  
“I’ll order something from room service,” Kyuhyun decides, sitting up and leaning over toward the nightstand in search of the menu. Siwon is just quick enough to wrap an arm around his waist, making Kyuhyun sink back into the bed with a startled gasp.  
  
“No, thank you,” he declares. “I’ve had enough of hotel cooking to last me a lifetime.”  
  
The bundle in his hold squirms. “But I’m hungry.”  
  
“We can always eat out,” Siwon suggests lazily, half of his attention focused on tracing the shape of a shoulder blade with his lips.  
  
Kyuhyun is silent for a few moments—either from the suggestion or the barrage of small, distracting pecks that Siwon is currently peppering his neck. “Won’t it be too risky?” he finally says.  
  
“Well, a feast of really great seafood deserves a little risk, don’t you think?”  
  
He can feel the grin on Kyuhyun’s face even without seeing it. “You planned this, didn’t you?”  
  
“Let’s just say that I did my research,” Siwon admits before placing one last kiss on the skin which now bears countless of his marks. “Come on. You don’t want to keep the crustaceans waiting.”  
  
Kyuhyun laughs, a smile lighting up his whole face as he accepts Siwon’s offered hand.  
  
What Siwon does not say is that he made the research solely to see that smile.  
  
  
.  
  
  
To the relief of everyone concerned, neither of them ended up with a slit throat after that first night.  
  
Instead, they scheduled another rendezvous in three months, this time in Vladivostok. The actual meeting, however, only took place a week after the designated time, when both sides had sufficiently convinced themselves that there was no trap lying in wait.  
  
Such was the curse of their job—but then again one could never be too careful. Which was why when he heard himself timidly suggesting for a third meeting, Siwon had to wonder what the hell he was doing.  
  
The same question was clearly echoed in the other man’s silence. The sex this time had been less than satisfying, too riddled with suspicions and second-guesses to be properly enjoyable, and they both knew it. If there was a perfect chance for them to end it once and for all and part ways in a relatively amicable term, then this would be it.  
  
“I didn’t save your life,” Guixian finally broke the silence.  
  
Siwon spent one long minute staring at the bare ceiling before answering, “I know.”  
  
“I was only following orders.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
“Do you really?” A hint of annoyance slipped into the usually calm voice.  
  
“Yes,” Siwon replied steadily. He shifted a little to face the other man properly and then continued, his tone resigned, “I am fully aware that if it weren’t for that order, you wouldn’t have cared if I had dropped dead in the middle of the street from a bullet or from anything else.”  
  
“That’s correct.” Guixian returned his gaze, unwavering. “So if you dare feeling like you’re indebted to me, I swear I’m going to rip your balls off.”  
  
Siwon almost laughed, but managed to restrain it at the last moment. “The problem is I do feel indebted to you,” he confessed, “although maybe not quite in the way you mean.”  
  
“Then in what way?”  
  
Instead of answering, Siwon only smiled and kissed him on the cheek, grinning at the scowl that appeared on the other man’s face. He had no doubt that Guixian knew what he was talking about. And for this reason, they would meet again at a small motel in Baghdad in two months, and Guixian would still willingly spread his legs for him.  
  
Because the temptation was too strong. Because a chance of reprieve from the endless solitude, or simply the presence of someone who knew, was impossible to ignore.  
  
They were what they were. And this was what they did to survive.  
  
  
.  
  
  
The seafood restaurant is one of the best in town, but they arrive early enough to secure a table for themselves.  
  
Siwon orders a generous spread and enjoys the way his companion’s eyes light up at the many selections of food on the table, only for the two of them. The wine is a romantic touch, but if Kyuhyun notices it as such, then he says nothing.  
  
Siwon doesn’t mind. The huge smile is what he aimed for.  
  
“So how is it compared to hotel food?”  
  
Kyuhyun in his usual mood would roll his eyes and shoot back with something out of his book of sarcasm. Kyuhyun in _this_ mood—which, as far as Siwon has observed, can only be brought out by the presence of delicious food in large quantity—has nothing else but benevolent words and generous praises in his repertoire.  
  
“Heaven,” he declares, his expression blissful. At that moment, a waiter arrives to deliver a plate of grilled shrimps to their table.  
  
Kyuhyun makes a sound which is positively indecent.  
  
Siwon grins, lightheaded with wine and exhilaration both. “You love me now, don’t you?”  
  
It takes him a second longer than usual to realise that what he has said is potentially disastrous. Something flickers in Kyuhyun’s expression, but it disappears just as quickly. In its place is a crooked smirk and a mock-haughty tone Siwon is thoroughly familiar with.  
  
“Yeah right, as if I can be wooed with just seafood and wine.”  
  
 _Then what would it take to woo you_ , he wants to ask but knows all to well the precarious balance of this so-called relationship to give the words voice. And so he swallows the words unsaid, along with another sip from his glass, and thinks, _well, there is always next time._  
  
  
.  
  
  
The third time led to fourth and the fourth gave birth to fifth and so on until Siwon decided to stop counting.  
  
Along the way, they also perfected a method of communication. A direct call to any number they owned carried innumerable risks—they had to guard the secret against enemies and friends both—and so they never attempted it. Something more subtle was needed. Two email addresses, Siwon had finally suggested during their fourth tryst. Which they would only access through public hotspots. They would take turns to decide where and when to meet. The responsible party would inform the other via email containing an encoded message.  
  
So far, the method had worked smoothly. The only problem was, such an arrangement would have developed into a routine if they had not taken so much care to not make it a routine. No specific dates. Random time intervals. Always different cities and never Seoul. In term of breaking the rules, nothing is more dangerous than regularity.  
  
Siwon had never really asked himself why he would go into so much trouble to maintain the practice. All he knew was it had led him here, to Osaka, one cool October evening in a nondescript hotel room. He was reading yet another detective novel and Guixian was sprawled at the other side of the bed, humming a tune as he played a game in his phone.  
  
“When is your birthday?”  
  
Surprised, Siwon looked up from his book. The question was completely unexpected. “Birthday?” he echoed.  
  
“You know, that day when you were born,” the other man said dryly.  
  
Siwon only stared at him for a few more seconds, a whirl of questions and speculations in his brain. Then he remembered his array of passports and birth certificates and grinned. “I have thirty-four of them. Which one do you want?”  
  
“Hm.” A contemplative glance was thrown his way. “The closest to today.”  
  
“Then it’s today.”  
  
“Really?” Guixian finally gave him his full attention, eyes wide and phone set aside, forgotten. “Isn’t that a funny coincidence.”  
  
“Thirty-four out of three-hundred-and-sixty-six days isn't that great of a coincidence,” Siwon pointed out wryly.  
  
“Well, if you put it that way.” Guixian smirked. “Then I suppose I can be excused for not having any present with me.”  
  
Siwon’s response was to pull the other man closer and start placing a trail of wet kisses from his Adam apple, down to his chest. “I think I have everything I want right where I want them at the moment.”  
  
He heard a snort, then the sound of a laugh which he really had come to like more than he probably should. “Come on, let’s make this a little bit more special. What do you want for this... one of your thirty-four birthdays?”  
  
He could have answered with something perfectly harmless, like a blowjob, or one of those positions he had been curious to try. But he had his head laid on Guixian’s chest and there were fingers lazily tangling and untangling his hair—and he _really_ was enjoying this more than he should, which was dangerous, and yet for that ridiculously wonderful moment, he really couldn’t find it in him to care.  
  
“Tell me your name.”  
  
The fingers paused—just for a fraction of a second, but Siwon would have been a lousy operative if he had failed to notice—and in that sliver of an instance, suspended between shock and treacherous bursts of hope, he wondered if he had stepped over a line. If he had just tipped the precarious balance and now this charade, this _thing_ between them, lay smashed on the floor. Broken beyond repair.  
  
But then Guixian’s fingers recommenced their idle interest in his hair and Siwon heard him say, “I have thirty- _five_ of them. Which one do you want?”  
  
He laughed, some part amusement but mostly relief, and caught one of the playful hands to kiss the long, beautiful digits. “Let’s say... one that doesn’t make me feel like I’m screaming someone else’s name when I come. Even if it’s just in my head, it’s still weird.”  
  
Guixian looked at him thoughtfully, and then pressed his hand against Siwon’s chest.  
  
Using sign language, he spelled K-Y-U-H-Y-U-N.  
  
  
.  
  
  
Siwon steps out of the shower to find a dish of strawberries and cream, artfully arranged on a circular table by the window along with a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice.  
  
“So this is why you said no dessert.”  
  
Kyuhyun is sitting in one of the chairs by the table, his fingers wrapped around the slender stem of a champagne flute. “This kind of dessert is more fun,” he announces as he steals a strawberry from the fancy glass bowl.  
  
“Really?” Siwon approaches him slowly, grinning. “How so?”  
  
“I can show you,” Kyuhyun purrs, licking the cream-smeared tip of the luscious fruit, “if you climb into the bed and lay down right now. Naked.”  
  
Siwon has never been more grateful in his life that he is already half bare, with only a towel clinging to his waist. He later finds that 'grateful' is too meek a word when Kyuhyun carefully spends the next half-an-hour devising ways to make him arch and moan—using only strawberries and cream and his talented, _talented_ tongue.  
  
“Sometimes you’re just too good to be true,” he declares, his breath still coming in gasps after Kyuhyun has teased an orgasm out of him.  
  
“I know.” The hum carries light tingles near his spent, sensitive cock, but not enough to make him hiss. “I’m the best thing that ever happens to you.”  
  
Siwon laughs and pulls the other man up to kiss him properly. Kyuhyun is hard—has been since the moment he let his lover’s cock have its first taste of strawberries. Such patience deserves its reward and Siwon steers his hand south to find the hardness waiting for him.  
  
He strokes slowly, catching every moan that echoes in his mouth. It isn’t long before the small wanton sounds turn impatient and demanding, the fingers on his shoulders into claws.  
  
“I know,” he whispers, staring into lust-darkened irises. “Choose one of those strawberries and I’ll give you what you want.”  
  
For a second Kyuhyun freezes, staring at him with eyes wild and wide. When he finally obeys Siwon’s order, it is with a trembling hand, and a few drops of the red juice seep into the white sheet for that carelessness.  
  
“The laundry staff will find us very trying guests,” he mutters, quivers hunting all the open edges around his voice.  
  
“I think, dear heart, the laundry staff is the last thing you should be thinking right now,” Siwon chides, his smirk hinged on darker promises. He takes the fruit, dipped in cream, and leaves a wet trail across one round butt cheek. Kyuhyun’s entire body is shaking with impatience, knees bent even lower to push himself against Siwon’s fingers. The first touch to his waiting entrance is light, barely there, but the reaction is so unmistakable that Siwon tightens the sheath of his fingers around Kyuhyun’s cock.  
  
“Don’t move,” he commands, his voice low, “or I’ll withdraw.”  
  
Kyuhyun shoots him a look which promises a thousand painful things, but otherwise remains still. Satisfied, Siwon begins his rhythmical strokes again, keeping a maddeningly relaxed pace. The warm weight of Kyuhyun’s hardness on his palm is familiar and pleasant; the strawberry, juggled between three of his left fingers, is less so, but he knows what to do with it—and _where_ —as he aims one last time and pushes the tip in.  
  
There is a gasp, then silence. Siwon watches every flash of reaction on Kyuhyun’s face, hovering just inches above him. A frown has settled between his tightly shut eyes, his teeth are clamping hard on his lower lip, and there is a pulse flickering at his bare throat. Siwon pushes in a little more and Kyuhyun’s mouth falls open, his moan voiceless. His nails strike deep into Siwon’s bare shoulders, but Siwon pays no heed to the biting pain, concentrating instead on working each millimetre into the tight, unprepared opening. All the way, his hand never stops caressing Kyuhyun’s cock, relishing every throb and twitch.  
  
Then it comes: a small, helpless sound. Kyuhyun is staring at him, desperate for something beyond his reach. His lips move, without purpose at first, but soon he is mouthing two syllables which might be Siwon’s name, over and over again, that all Siwon can think of is how he will gladly obey any demand made by those eyes, cloaked in that vulnerability. His fingers flex, pressing the fruit nearly all the way in—and it is then, stretched around the widest girth, that Kyuhyun loses his control and comes with a half-choked moan. The curl of his body tightens and Siwon holds him through the shuddering climax, his mouth murmuring a stream of soothing nonsense.  
  
None of these should matter more than it does, but when Kyuhyun finally opens his eyes and looks up, head still cushioned on his chest, he smiles—and it’s just the most beautiful thing Siwon has ever beheld that he has no choice but to fall in love all over again with that smile.  
  
  
.  
  
  
It was in Istanbul when Kyuhyun first failed to keep their appointment.  
  
Siwon waited for one night, stewing in indecision, and then left for his next mission. There were a hundred reasons which might have accounted for Kyuhyun’s failure to show up—although, he must admit, very few of those reasons could be described as harmless, even by their standard. Still, none of them was his business, and so he sent a second email to the usual address, scheduling another meeting in ten weeks, and then told himself to get on with his own business.  
  
Ten weeks later, Kyuhyun once again failed to make an appearance.  
  
Siwon waited for two nights before coming to the conclusion that something must have happened. Either Kyuhyun was involved in a long-term mission (but he would have left words) or something unexpected had occurred (and ‘unexpected’ always meant dangerous, even catastrophic, for people in their line of work) or Kyuhyun no longer wanted him (not quite as disastrous as the other possibilities maybe, but not much more preferable either).  
  
Whichever it was, the not-knowing left uneasiness breeding inside him like maggots. It could only mean one thing: that he had grown attached—and _that_ was a mistake, one he had to live with next to the consequences. Between them, the physical relationship might have always been the easy part, but it was still a relationship. He got used to it. He learned to favour it above the solitary existence in which he used to confine himself.  
  
Now that attachment was a liability. Steps of countermeasures must be taken. First, he taught his mind to _not_ think about Kyuhyun. Second, he told his heart that this was for the better; a deeper connection would inevitably bring more hurt in the future. Then he spent three long months battling himself to keep silent and not contact Yoona for news of the other man.  
  
Still, something must have slipped past his defences, for even his sister could not help but comment on it when he had a few days off and returned home. Siwon only smiled at her before muttering, “Just work,” two words which immediately silenced her. It was a part of his life that she would never touch—that he would never _allow_ her to touch.  
  
In the end, he still sent another e-mail, proposing another meeting. It was in Benn, and he waited one night, two nights, three.  
  
On the fourth day, only minutes before he decided to leave, Kyuhyun finally appeared, looking like he had just crawled out of hell.  
  
Siwon stared. The painful throb in his chest must be relief, but it was so mangled by many other things that he couldn’t recognise it as one anymore.  
  
“Hey.”  
  
Kyuhyun smiled, walking slowly into the room. Siwon sprang to his feet, noticing the odd gait, but the soft hiss falling from Kyuhyun’s lips when he tried to help him to bed was enough to make him let go. He watched, helpless, as the other man slumped into bed with a groan.  
  
“I was caught,” Kyuhyun told him, simply and quietly, like those three words didn’t unleash an entire horde of horrors into Siwon’s imagination. He knew very well what happened when they were captured, the things done to people like them. His horrors were confirmed when he saw what lay hidden under Kyuhyun’s shirt—the burn marks amidst a constellation of bruises, blue and black and ugly yellow on deathly pale skin. And those were only the ones on the surface.  
  
“I’m sorry I didn’t keep our last appointment,” Kyuhyun said again, genuine regret lining his voice.  
  
Siwon almost laughed, but he knew any burst of emotion would turn into sobs sooner or later. So he bit the urge down and settled for caressing Kyuhyun’s hair gently—the only place he could touch without hurting him right now. “You were captured and you _apologised_ to me? God, Kyuhyun.”  
  
Kyuhyun smiled, a wan sort of smile in the grip of exhaustion. “Sorry. I can’t really think right now. Haven’t slept for weeks. They might come back, you know.”  
  
Siwon clenched his teeth to stop a barrage of curses. Of course he knew how it felt—those horrible moments when the nightmares were too close, too real still. It had nothing to do with real threats. The demons came from the inside, ever on the prowl until he was at his weakest. In sleep. And then they would strike.  
  
And he would be alone. People like them always were.  
  
“You don’t have to worry about them,” he found himself answering. “At least for now. Because I’ll be awake, and anyone who enters this room without permission will get a bullet from me. No exception.”  
  
Kyuhyun stared at him, with those eyes ringed with blackness. “You didn’t come here for this,” he finally said, an odd tone in his voice.  
  
“I came here to see you.” The words already left Siwon’s mouth before he could stop them. “Only to see you.”  
  
“Only to see me,” the other man echoed.  
  
“Yes,” Siwon whispered and dropped a kiss on Kyuhyun’s forehead. “So don’t worry about it. Or about them. I won’t let anything happen to you.”  
  
For a long time, an unreadable look remained on Kyuhyun’s face. His eyes were too bright, as if tears had set them alight, but then he nodded, accepting the offer.  
  
He slept for twelve hours straight. Siwon watched the door, the windows, his mind constructing little traps to further secure the room. His world had righted itself again now that Kyuhyun was here, with him, alive.  
  
By the time Kyuhyun woke up, there was no doubt left in Siwon’s mind that he had fallen in love.  
  
  
.  
  
  
Going down to the beach to see the sunrise is his idea.  
  
Kyuhyun groans and burrows deeper into the pillow when Siwon wakes him up. Not even a threat that he will be carried all the way down to the beach wearing absolutely nothing can move him from the bed.  
  
“I can’t walk,” he declares, neatly dumping all the blame onto Siwon’s shoulders.  
  
Siwon sighs and carries out his threat, earning himself an indignant yelp and a laugh at the same time.  
  
“Put me down,” Kyuhyun tells him, his dignified tone far less intimidating now that he is barely out of sleep.  
  
“Only if you’re going with me to the beach.”  
  
“To see a fucking sunrise?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Kyuhyun sighs. “Fine. Whatever. Just let me put my pants on first.”  
  
Siwon accepts his victory with a wordless smile. His head still swims in the restless depth evoked by their many rounds of lovemaking last night, and he carries this restlessness with him when he meets the sea.  
  
The beach is an open space, one he will normally avoid. There are many places of concealment from which a bullet might fly or eyes can spy. His mind conjures many surprise scenarios, old fears and new threats mingled into one, as they leave their bare-footed prints on sand.  
  
But the sun’s birth is a glorious sight. He smiles, uneasiness momentarily forgotten, at the golden streaks that burnish the sky and dapple the sea. His chest is bursting with an unnamed emotion, like gratitude but aimless, awe but rootless. This isn’t the first time; there have been several similar moments, in different places and different times.  
  
Only the person next to him is constant.  
  
Their first touch in this open space is accidental, fingers brushing over fingers. Kyuhyun stiffens—and Siwon feels the bite of irony, lips tightening into a grim line, that this innocent gesture warrants such reaction whereas his far more intimate touches last night did not. He pulls away and walks a few steps forward, until his naked feet meet the cool lapping of the waves.  
  
“Do you know why I want to come down here?” he asks without turning around.  
  
The answer comes after a lengthy pause. “So no one can listen to our conversation.”  
  
“Yes.” This time he spins on his heels, catching Kyuhyun’s wary gaze. “But do you know _why_?”  
  
Kyuhyun shakes his head. Siwon can sense his fear and panic, the same kind that clogs the back of his throat and makes his hands tremble in his pockets.  
  
His hands never tremble, not even when they are holding a gun. Or a knife.  
  
“Because I want to call your name.”  
  
His words fall like a dead weight between them. Kyuhyun does not respond; for a long time, they stare at each other, measuring each other’s thoughts and posture against the barb of the argument.  
  
“Why are you saying all these things?” When Kyuhyun finally breaks his silence, traces of accusation are all over his voice. “We were fine, weren’t we?”  
  
“It wasn’t enough.”  
  
“Why the hell not?”  
  
“Because,” Siwon pauses, bracing himself against rejection, “I fell in love.”  
  
Kyuhyun flinches. Siwon notices it and swallows the sudden surge of hurt. The sound of waves are too loud in his ears and his instinct is telling him to run, but he forces himself to stay still, feet burrowing deeper into the cool, moist sand.  
  
“You’re an idiot.” Kyuhyun’s face is open with rage. “It was fun and we were doing great. But you just have to ruin it all, don’t you.”  
  
Siwon inhales the sharp morning air deeply, as if it can numb him. “I have to say it.”  
  
“Yeah, guess what? Now I’ll have to walk away.”  
  
But he doesn’t. He remains rooted where he is, glaring at a spot over Siwon’s left shoulder. Siwon approaches him slowly, out of the water’s edge, heart sounding a wild beat in his chest.  
  
“I’m sorry that I’m an idiot,” he says as he gently, carefully unfurls Kyuhyun’s clenched fingers, holding them loosely.  
  
Kyuhyun doesn’t pull away. Siwon releases a shaky breath, hope flaring white-hot in his stomach. When he puts his arms around the smaller man, he can feel him trembling, and so he holds him—holds him as he says the one word which has haunted him for what feels like a very long time.  
  
“Kyuhyun.”  
  
There is a small, strangled sound coming from Kyuhyun’s throat. Siwon pulls him closer, feels the harsh breathing against his neck as he repeats the name, over and over again, until the moment subsides, leaving only a wet patch on his T-shirt.  
  
“I’ve wanted to call your name for the longest time,” he admits, staring at their merged shadows on the spread of sand.  
  
“I’ve told you not to do anything without my permission,” comes the weak, muffled reply, pressed against his shoulder.  
  
Siwon smiles. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Kyuhyun says, more loudly this time. “Idiot Siwon.”  
  
Siwon freezes. Disbelief is a thick barrier, but joy proves too strong, too real to be contained. He grins, then laughs, tears blinding his eyes.  
  
“I’ve never been so happy to hear someone call me an idiot.”  
  
“Because you’re an idiot.”  
  
“Undoubtedly.”  
  
Then Kyuhyun kisses him.  
  
  
.  
  
  
It is dangerous. It is wrong. It is idiocy. It is many other things.  
  
But it is also love—and this definition is definitely Siwon’s favourite.  
  
  
  
 ** _End_**  
  
  
---


End file.
